


guidance

by gourmetpap3r



Series: concentration: required [3]
Category: Baldur's Gate, baldur's gate 3
Genre: M/M, Pining, halsin thirst if you squint, no beta we illiterate, oh get fucking ready yall, this one is gay as hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:39:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29763222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gourmetpap3r/pseuds/gourmetpap3r
Summary: “I spoke to you the other day about your potential for magic. How you were able to bend the weave in spite of having no tutor.” Gale started, “I must admit, as someone who has been in touch with the weave longer than I’m even able to recall, truthfully I was jealous of you. Magic is.. My life. Like music, poetry and beauty all rolled into one and given expression through the senses.”And then.. a proposal.“Would you like to experience this?”
Relationships: Gale (Baldur's Gate)/Original Character(s), Gale (Baldur's Gate)/Original Male Character(s)
Series: concentration: required [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2147016
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	guidance

**Author's Note:**

> or: giving gale an artifact + the weave scene worked into my own canon because i couldnt fuckin help myself
> 
> yeah babes this ones a long one 3k words of raw homosexuality. i wanted to work it into my canon that marsh is an arcane trickster, and it made sense for his knowledge of spells to come from gale so... here it is! idk what else to say about this really, 
> 
> actually it just occured to me that some of my 5 readers may not know what marsh looks like so heres a bg3 doodle dump that includes him: https://gourmetpap3r.tumblr.com/post/643550704418668544/another-bg3-doodle-dump-feat-gale-being-emo-me 
> 
> for anyone NOT wanting to click to see my art: Marsh is a 5 foot tall halfdrow with pale lavender skin and curly dark purple hair with the sides white. his eyes are yellow and he has two black dots underneath them. Gale in my fics is just.. gale, he looks like he does ingame except he has a few grey hairs.

Upon finding and rescuing Halsin, Marsh was made acutely aware of two things:

One: Halsin was big.

Two: Halsin was big.

Furthermore, the druid was also very adamant on killing the goblin leaders to ensure the safety of the Emerald Grove. A bit more violent than Marsh had expected an archdruid to be, but then again, he had never encountered an archdruid before. 

The team had joined up with the archdruid, who had turned back into a bear in preparation for the fight to come. 

Besting a minor army of goblins in combat was no easy feat, they’d been lucky enough to snuff out both the Priestess and the drow without attracting too much attention. The hobgoblin, Dror Ragzlin, proved much more difficult. The hobgoblin was surrounded by casters and archers, and not to mention a giant pit overlooking even more giant spiders.

  
  


The group were all on their last leg once the last goblin had been killed and were all desperate for the tiniest bit of rest. Marsh had arguably gotten the worst of the group, being the victim of a particularly nasty Inflict Wounds spell. He’d downed his last healing potion post-combat and had insisted on scouring out the temple, certain he’d find something he could give to Gale- though he hadn’t said so out loud. Save for Astarion, the rest of the party opted for a short rest instead, not wanting to run after the two rogues as they began looting the temple; grabbing as much as they could carry back. 

Marsh’s eyes lit up as he managed to get a particularly expensive looking chest open, the magical energy practically radiating off of it. He fiddled with his lockpicks, deeply concentrated as the chest popped open with a; >click<. Inside was an amulet, definitely arcane in nature. The drow smiled to himself and made his way back to Astarion, who meanwhile had seemed to have found some inhuman way to carry 7 bottles of wine at once.

*

They all made camp not soon after, getting ready to make the trek back to the Grove the following morning. Halsin had taken over as designated chef for the evening, managing to procure some semblance of actual food for the party. Everyone was worn out, nobody making any conversation other than the occasional comment like: “Pass that here,” or, “Thanks.” - Marsh didn’t blame them. 

The healing potion had taken most of the immediate pain, but Shadowheart had been parched for spells following the battle so actual healing had to wait until the morning. For now he felt weak, lightheaded. And so he was tempted to just pass out right after dinner, but he couldn’t - not yet. He pulled out the amulet he’d found in the temple from his bag, holding it in a careful grip as he approached Gale. 

Gale, being a wizard, was naturally squishy, and therefore also on priority when it came to healing - meaning out of the entire party he currently looked the best. The wizard was busy transcribing two spell scrolls they’d found in the temple when Marsh approached him, settling down in their usual spot a few paces off from the centre of the camp. 

  
  


There were many things about Gale that fascinated Marsh, he would be lying if he said that there was a single thing about the wizard that wasn’t intriguing to him. It started from just enjoying the company of Gale as a conversation partner, and then it moved to just enjoying his company overall. 

That was when Marsh started noticing things, like the way Gale would lightly lick the tip of his thumb before turning a page whenever he read a book. 

Or the way he would scratch at his beard while thinking. 

Or the scar that sat on the left side of his neck, Marsh had wondered before where the wizard had acquired it, yet said nothing out of fear of prying. 

Or the one stubborn strand of hair he would always have to tuck behind his left ear, only for it to crawl its way in front of his face not long after and the cycle continued. 

It was distracting sometimes, this fixation, and the rogue was sure Gale had caught him staring a couple of times. It was embarrassing; especially considering the two had only met recently. And even more so because he was sure it was completely one-sided. Not helped when the wizard’s expression lifted into a smile as he spotted the drow moving towards him.

“Marsh! Hold on a moment; I’ll be right with you.” He turned back to his spellbook, spending a few moments to continue inscribing something in his spellbook, writing in a language Marsh couldn’t read. He sat down next to the other, and patiently waited for Gale to finish. It took a minute or two of great concentration before Gale closed the book and turned to face him. “There we are. Apologies - transcribing spells requires much concentration. How are you holding up?”

“I’m mostly fine, just happy we made it out of there in one piece, really.” 

“I’ll drink to that.” Gale tilted his head in agreement, spending a moment to glance over Marsh, seeing a bruise starting to form on his cheekbone from the battle. “Well, another day perhaps.” He corrected himself. “So, what’s on your mind?”

Marsh held out his clenched fist, carefully opening it to reveal the golden amulet inside - he could practically feel the magic vibrating off of it with a quiet hum. “I found this in the temple.. Could this help you?” 

Gale, for once, seemed lost for words. He carefully reached to take the amulet. “This is god-touched, Marsh.” He focused for a moment. “Selûne, probably.” He paused. “Wow, this is great. Yes, this would definitely help my condition.” Previously transfixed by the amulet, he turned his gaze to meet the drows. “Thank you.”

Marsh smiled slightly at the eye contact, turning his gaze away promptly as he felt the tip of his ears grow hot. “So.. What’s going to happen to the amulet?”

“Well, long story made short, I’ll absorb the weave within, leaving the artifact as nothing more than a relic.” Gale explained, pausing for a moment. “It’s a small price to pay for momentary stillness, but it’s a price to be paid nonetheless; this amulet could prove very useful and valuable. I would be lying if I said I’m not surprised to see you part with it so swiftly.”

“If you need it, it’s yours. Hey, it’s still a pretty amulet, we might get some coin for it anyway - magic or not.” Marsh hesitated, but placed his palm on the wizards shoulder, comfortingly rubbing it for a bit. “It’s better off with you.”

Gale simply smiled, leaning into the contact ever so slightly. 

The wizard rose from his spot, standing his full height as he held out the amulet, muttering some arcane words to himself. Marsh watched as the amulet lifted off from Gale’s grip, levitating slightly as it began to glow. All too bright and then - nothing. The amulet fell to the ground with a thud, almost over as quickly as it had started. 

Gale had clutched his chest, sitting down, his expression tense. His muscles relaxed after a minute of that. Marsh placed a hand on his knee, looking at him with worried eyes. 

“I’m alright,” A pause, reassurance, almost as if Gale had known what the drow had been thinking, “But to imply one ever gets accustomed to this would be to lie.” He took a deep breath. “Nevertheless, this was much welcome. I feel the storm abating, if only for a precious while.” 

“That’s good then! You’re okay now?”

“I admire your optimism; truly.” Gale offered a smile. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple, I’m not certain of how long it’ll be until I next need to consume another artifact.”

“You don’t think Halsin might be able to help you with your condition once he’s feeling better tomorrow?” 

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple, there is no wound to be mended, only-” Gale cut his own sentence short. “Nevermind, there are questions that have yet to be answered but now is not the time or place.  _ You  _ should talk to Halsin, though, perhaps he can bring insight to your own condition.” Gale gestured lazily to the side of his head.

“Oh! Right.” Marsh would’ve been embarrassed to admit he’d completely forgotten about his own complications in the wake of wanting to help Gale with his. Which is why he did not admit it. It was concerning, however, Marsh’s recollection - or lack thereof - was still very hazy, with huge chunks just flat-out missing, and the few memories he could remember, he was unable to place anywhere on a timeline. It was like trying to do a puzzle in the dark. 

Improbable. Inconceivable. Impossible. 

“I’ll talk to Halsin before we head out tomorrow.” Marsh nodded in confirmation. 

“That sounds like a reasonable place to start.” Gale reached over and picked off the now dull amulet off the ground and handed it to the rogue, their fingers brushing over one anothers. “Thank you again.” The two locked eyes, sharing a glance that reflected gratitude. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

*   
  


Marsh was awake for most of that night, tossing and turning in his tent as sleep would not offer him its embrace. Maybe it was due to the adrenaline still in his system from the day prior, maybe it was the fear of another dream intruded upon by illithid projections. No matter, the drow was still awake, unable to keep track of time he had estimated it to be after midnight. Everything around camp proved silent, save for the gentle hum of something arcane - echoing gently like a choir of bells far away.

Marsh sat up eventually, opting to investigate the sound. He poked his head out from behind the fabric of his tent. Everyone else was in their respective tents, save for the owlbear cub who was lying flopped onto the ground next to the campfire, soaking in the warmth. Marsh smiled to himself, happy to see the cub content.

The drow glanced away from the center of the camp, and sure enough, a dim, lilac light reflected off in the distance, easy to make out with his darkvision. The source of the hum.  _ Gale _ . 

What was Gale doing up this late? The rogue grabbed his blanket, wrapping it around himself like a cape and quietly approached the wizard. As he moved closer into view, Gale was seemingly deep in thought, staring at the projected image of a woman summoned in his hand. 

“She’s pretty.” Marsh spoke, trying to keep his voice quiet enough as to not startle the other.

It didn’t work. Gale tensed, promptly closed his palm shut, ending the illusion. “My, you startled me.”

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to intrude, I couldn’t sleep and noticed you weren’t in your tent, either..”

“No harm done, it’s been a tense day for us all. I thought I’d take some time to.. Collect my thoughts.”

Marsh nodded. “I see.” _ Collect his thoughts? _ He thought back to the projection Gale had summoned. “Who was that then? Before, in your hand.”

Gale took a moment, seemingly thinking. He pursed his lips and glanced to the side, clearly debating whether or not to answer. This was personal, not just idle smalltalk or retellings of stories the wizard had read as a child.

Marsh was ready to retreat, perhaps he had overstepped his boundaries. He shouldn’t have assumed anything, the two were still practically strangers to each other. Marsh knew Gale had no reason to trust him, an amnesiac drow - what a joke. 

And then, Gale looked back up, their eyes meeting in a shared glance. 

“She is.. Mystra.”

Gale went on to explain his devotion to her, his need to see her sometimes, to ground himself in her presence- illusionary or not. Mystra was all magic, the very weave itself, in a sense. The pool of water Gale needed to draw from in order to cast his spells. 

Gale spoke with a gratitude and admiration dripping from every word, sweet like honey. 

“I spoke to you the other day about your potential for magic. How you were able to bend the weave in spite of having no tutor.” Gale started, “I must admit, as someone who has been in touch with the weave longer than I’m even able to recall, truthfully I was jealous of you. Magic is.. My life. Like music, poetry and beauty all rolled into one and given expression through the senses.”

And then.. a proposal. 

“Would you like to experience this?”

Marsh’s brows raised into a gentle arch at that statement and nodded. 

It was almost like a dance, of sorts - Gale guiding him gently along, with one hand on Marsh’s waist and another on his back, light as a feather as he corrected his posture. Marsh was sure this must be what waltzing felt like, and by every god it was intimate. 

Marsh almost felt like a fraud, doing his best to imitate what Gale was doing. He stumbled over his words, with the wizard repeating the pronunciation back to him until he got it right. 

“And now I want you to picture in your mind the concept of harmony.”

The request caught the rogue off-guard. Harmony? He closed his eyes, hoping to focus better. He struggled, reaching out after any semblance of memory to latch onto and remember fondly and was met with nothing. A vague picture of looking into a crowd and seeing no faces like his own formed in his mind's eye,  _ childhood _ . He pulled at the memory, trying to think back to the previous day where he’d remembered it clearer. Surely if he just focused on it..

But no. Nothing. It was like trying to recall a dream right after waking up. 

_ Frustration _ .

Marsh felt betrayed by himself - this wasn’t fair. He had nothing to latch onto. No fond memories to think back on. He didn’t even know his own age. Maybe this was a mistake. 

He opened his eyes again and saw Gale, standing mere feet away from him, patiently waiting. 

_ Gale _ . He was letting him in, the way he spoke of the weave - of Mystra - earlier. Surely this moment was harmonic in its own way? This impulsive moment that only occurred because neither of them could fall asleep that night. This gentle dance with the wizard he hadn’t known existed less than a tenday ago. 

_ Harmony _ . 

And then.. Comfort. A gentle lilac glow surrounded them, like aurora wrapping itself around the two. Serene in nature.

Gale’s expression brightened. “My word! You did it! You’re channeling the weave!” 

Marsh couldn’t help but return the smile. He felt safe. This felt natural. Like the same reason why the sun rises each morning, and why messages in bottles return to shore. It was meant to happen. 

The moment felt intimate, even looking at Gale there was some semblance of confirmation that neither had overstepped each others boundaries. Confirmation that this was okay, even now. Marsh hadn’t wanted to push himself onto Gale, a man who so clearly was harboring a lot of guilt for something that he hadn’t been ready to share the full extent of yet. But right now he was letting him in. 

If only a moment could last forever. 

The two were very close, he realized. It would take almost nothing to move in and close the gap between the two; to give in and seal whatever connection the two had built with a kiss. Marsh longed to reach out, to feel. Gale’s expression puzzled and his cheeks flushed a gentle red, embarrassed - or perhaps exhilarated, as if he had been inside Marsh’s mind at that moment, aware of his desire. But surely that was too silly of a notion to even entertain. 

But neither of them moved, until finally the feeling slipped and the night was pitch black. Not an issue for Marsh, but Gale summoned three dancing lights to illuminate the general area ever so gently. A comfortable warmth gathered in the half-drows chest as he saw the expression adorning the wizards face.

He couldn’t help but smile, feeling his sharp canines gently pressing into his lower lip.

And then Gale moved.

Closer, slowly and carefully, as if beckoning a stray cat closer, earning trust. Gale placed both his hands on the rogues shoulders, palms still vibrating slightly with arcane energy. Marsh looked up at him, suddenly even more aware of the height difference between the two.

“I would like to take you up on your proposal from a few nights ago.”

“Hmm?” Marsh blinked, silently asking for the wizard to clarify.

“You clearly have a gift for the arcane, I want to help you learn how to use it- No, I want to help you  _ master  _ it, if you’ll let me.”

Marsh was sure he looked just as flustered as he felt. He nodded. “Of course!” 

“Mind you, it’s not going to be easy. But letting your potential go to waste would be a tremendous loss.” 

Marsh was again lost for words. Gale was a former archwizard, not some tutor. He’d made the suggestion for him to teach spells mostly in jest, not expecting Gale to actually want to take the time to teach him.

“Thank you.” Marsh did the only natural thing and closed the gap between them, pulling Gale into an embrace. It was tense at first, having caught the wizard off guard. It was healing, in a way, in the midst of all of this madness. A moment away from mindflayers and illithid tadpoles, a foolish distraction to some but very welcome for the two. 

“First lesson starts tomorrow, we should both get some rest now.” Gale patted Marsh’s back and pulled out of the hug. He hesitated for a moment before ever-so-gently tucking in a strand of white hair behind Marsh’s ear.

A lot continued to be left unsaid, but Marsh went to bed very happy that night.

**Author's Note:**

> i really like the idea of gale wanting to work through his own feelings of selfdoubt by helping someone else succeed so thats kind of what i wanted to work in.. sorry there arent very spicy but we'll get there when we get there yk?


End file.
